


Master of his Fate

by Dark_Huntress_Moony



Series: Song Birds [7]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Dorian is sassmaster, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Halward Pavus Being an Asshole, Halward Pavus' A+ Parenting, Horseback Riding, M/M, Memory Loss, Mind Manipulation, Suicidal Thoughts, Trevelyan is a bro, Victorian with Magic, everyone ships adoribull, past trauma, star-crossed lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-04-24 12:26:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14355486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Huntress_Moony/pseuds/Dark_Huntress_Moony
Summary: Every five years Thedas holds a grand event where master horse racers and performers from all over the world come and put their nation on the line. Dorian Pavus is a master jockey playing Polo for the Tevinter Imperium and he enjoys the freedom that riding brings him. Off the horses, he is a good little puppet, a public face of house Pavus and engaged to the beautiful yet cold Livia of House Herathinos. Dorian hates that he must play house and has to hide who he truly is, then his father hires a new stable crew for the upcoming race. A giant Qunari of a man named 'The Iron Bull' and his 'Chargers', Dorian certainly does not find the man endearing or attractive...not at all....just finds his expertise on horses rather remarkable. It's all professional until it isn't.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well...here we are. Another Songbird fic. Blame Josh Groban singing Evermore from Beauty and the Beast. That song gets me every time, and now I come to you with a brand new short (in my opinion) 10 chapter story with Dorian and Iron Bull. Dorian really wants someone to come in and sweep him away and Iron Bull is the type of sweeper to make things interesting.  
> This story is also a gift to the lovely Vixiak over on Tumblr for pushing this idea forward. You are a doll and I hope you are going to enjoy this little Victorian with Magic mashup.
> 
> I am taking some liberties with this, somewhat, steampunk. Just replace the steam with magic. I hope you all will enjoy.  
> ~~~~~~~  
> Calm me, hurt me  
> Move me, come what may  
> Wasting in my lonely tower  
> Waiting by an open door  
> I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in  
> And be with me for evermore  
> ~~Evermore by Josh Groban/Dan Stevens

Dorian hummed as he sat on the stool at his vanity lacing up his riding boots, the tune was an old one, one his nanny used to hum when he had a fever. He pulled on the simple gear he used for his fathers Fennic hunting parties. He detested the 'sport' but put up with it, as he did with many things his father put him through. He sighed as he pulled on the deep Dales Loden Wool coat and grabbed his hat. He left his room moving down the vast halls of his families home.

"Dorian." His father's cool voice drifted over to him. "What are you doing?"

Dorian sighed as he slowly turned around, his father was the spitting image of Tevinter high society; the blue dyed Royal Sea Silk waistcoat over an iridescent green house vest and black pants and polished shoes. He held his white gloves in his hand as well as his hat, his Volcanic Aurum cane resting in the crook of his arm. "I am going to fetch Leto and go for a ride. We are leaving for the games at the end of the week. I want to get a few leisure rides in before-"

"The horses are fine, top shape Dorian. You have other pressing matters to attend to." Halward's face was hard as he looked at his son with barely concealed hate.

"The only thing pressing today is that you expect me to sit through a painful luncheon with House Herathinos to sit next to my 'darling' bride-to-be as you and her father discuss a dowery. I am going to go for a ride on Leto, my freedom is not yours yet Father. I shall not let you take the joy of riding from me as you have so many other things." Dorian placed his hat on his head and gave a sharp nod. He made a dignified dash to the door and took a deep breath of the late spring air. The smell of Qunaris in the spring calmed his nerves considerably and he moved down the cobblestone path to the stables. He moved into the stables and was struck by the beauty of his steed as Leto ate calmly from his private trough. Leto, his only friend on the estate since his father had dismissed the lovely stablehand after catching him and Dorian in a 'compromising' position on the hay bales. Dorian sighed and supposed being sent away was the better punishment rather than the alternative. He stepped into the stall and ran his hand along the thick neck of his companion. " _Avanna_ Leto." He whispered pressing his forehead to the steady drum of the horse's heartbeat. 

Leto stood at a grand 16 hands high, thick muscles were defined under the glossy black coat. Leto let out a comforting sound, stomping a single hoof; the feathering swirling and glinting in the light from the magelight lamps. He ran his fingers over the large braid in the horse's mane, dotted with silverite and stormheart beads. The mane was truly a thing of vanity, reaching the horse's knee but it was stunning and added to the exoticness of the horse making him stand out among the proud Pavus brood. Leto was a gift from Dorian's best friends, Maeveris and Felix. 'Native to the Marches and exotic enough for our friend' They had said. They had the same bad sense of humor, he almost wished he had never introduced them sometimes but Mae was making Felix happy in the short time he had left. "Ready to ride?" He asked, pressing his forehead against the warm flesh of Leto's neck.

The horse nodded and Dorian chuckled. He was smart, smarter than people gave him credit for; than his father gave him credit for. Dorian knew he was going to miss riding, miss being free. "Let us be free for now. No saddle and no reigns." He smiled as he lead Leto out of the stable only for his joy to freeze as he saw his father and the Herathinos Patriarch and his future bride. "Father?"

"We decided to join you for a leisure ride. Livia commented on the perfect weather and we thought 'what better way to spend time together than a ride around the fountains'. Where is your saddle?" Halward asked, arching an eyebrow and tapping his cane to the cobblestone.

"I rarely ride with a saddle when not playing polo Father." Dorian schooled his face into something statuesque so that his true feelings wouldn't show. A trick he had learned since first coming back to the hell that was his life.

"That is hardly proper." Lord Herathinos frowned. He was a squat and portly man; his waistcoat tight and unflattering making him look almost pigeon like. His skin was pale, like the underbelly of a fish with beady black eyes. Dorian had remembered how his mother had said that once, in his youth, Lucian Herathinos had been very handsome but all Dorian saw was how gluttony and a life of self-service could tarnish and warp beauty if one was not careful. Dorian refused to let himself fall to that, training his physical body as well as his magical ability to stay in top physical condition even though he consumed more wine than was really needed for a young man. "Go and place a saddle on your beast. A gentleman always lets his betrothed ride his horse to ensure her comfort." The squat man dismissed Dorian with a snort and a wave of his hand.

Dorian's lips pulled into a thin tight line before he bowed. "Of course, Lord Herathinos." He clicked his tongue and walked Leto back into the stall. "I'm sorry Leto." He whispered running his hand along his muzzle as he picked up the bit and bridle. 

"You speak to the animal as if it can understand you." Livia sneered, apparently having followed him into the stall. Her face pulled into a disgusted look as she held a small bouquet of flowers to her nose to avoid the smell of the stable. She was a sharp-witted woman, a few years younger than him, with an even sharper tongue. Her long chestnut brown hair was styled after the high fashion ladies in Minrathous. The lower half curled in tight rings while the top half of her hair was coiled in an intricate almost rose-like design. A small black velvet hat sat atop her hair more a decoration than a true hat. Gems and precious stones were clipped into the curls and braids in a vulgar display of her families wealth. Her gown was a deep red that, unfortunately (in Dorian's opinion), made her tanned skin seem almost orange. The petticoat was buttoned with obsidian and rubies and sinched tightly while her skirts lay flat in the front and ruffled from her lower back out and down to the floor in layers of red-brown and black lace. Dorian threw her an annoyed look which she promptly ignored. "It is a mindless beast they only know how to eat and shit. Hardly better than those dreaded Ox-men."

Dorian took a slow breath, counting to ten in his head as he grabbed the saddle blanket that was crafted from darkened samite and avaar cotton. He started to lay it over the steeds back only to hear Livia let out a snort. "Yes?"

"You waist such luxury on a beast that you will not have much longer." She huffed.

"It prevents the saddle from chafing. I cannot play Polo if my mount is hurting so the blanket acts as a barrier."

"I cannot wait until you give up that unseemly sport. Imagine, being the wife of a polo player." she shivered making a disgusted face. "I am already the laughing stock of Minrathous, hopefully, this marriage will make you seem like a proper Magister."

Dorian bit his cheek to keep his words in check. Giving up his had won the position as captain of the Tevinter Imperium's international polo team was a point of pride alongside his magical studies. He thought back to what had brought him to this point. 

After he had run from home, after his father had tried to...change him, he found himself at the home of Magister Alexis. A home for a few short years of his life. Then Felix got sick, his mother killed, there was a fight and Dorian had found himself down South. He had found himself on the Orlais/Ferelden border at a traveling circus. 'The Inquisition' they had called themselves. He watched the acrobats with awe, the fire-eaters, the clowns, most of all he watched the horse dancers. The two elves were graceful with elaborate and somewhat risque costumes. Dorian had spoken to the ringmaster after. He wanted to learn, showed them that he could. Years of equestrian lessons and fencing practice gave him an edge. Coupled with magic he was given the job. Four years of traveling southern Thedas. It was then he fell in love; with the ringmaster no less. He was unlike anyone Dorian had ever known; kind and quick with a smile or a hug. Kaaras Adaar, at first glance, could almost pass for human. He was a rare and hornless Qunari, large and intimidating when he wanted to be but laid back.

Dorian missed him terribly. The troupe had been called to perform in Nevarra at the court. Unfortunately, Halward had found him there and Kaaras, that damned kind-hearted fool, had made him sit and talk with his father. Drinks were shared and they argued when Dorian refused to come to heel; and that, Dorian had thought, was the end of it. As Dorian woke the next morning, a scream sounded through the camp. He had snapped awake to find himself in a puddle of blood. The dagger tumbled from his fingers as he looked into Kaaras's unblinking eyes. " _Amatus_?" His voice broke as he reached out, smearing bloody fingers to cold skin. What happened next was a blur; Dorian was thrown into a cell, still covered in the blood of his  _amatus_. His father appeared in his cell, the conversation echoing in his head no matter what he did or how much he drank.

"You killed him, Dorian."

"No..."

"Yes. But I can set you free. Agree to come home."

"I couldn't have killed him...I loved him."

"But you did Dorian, your perversion is what lead to his death. Come home, do the right thing. Come back to where you belong."

Numb to everything he had agreed; going home felt like a death sentence with no sweet relief from the pain of existing. For two years he simply wallowed, could still smell the blood on his skin no matter how much he bathed or how long he soaked. He could still hear Kaaras whispering those last sweet words to him before they had fallen asleep. He could still smell the circus, hear the laughter. He wanted to end it all, make it go away, settle into cold oblivion. Then Felix; sick, sweet, loving Felix came to see him. Took him out into the sun again where Mae stood with Leto. The three of them went on their first ride then and Dorian found peace riding the grand horse. But even that peace was shattered, his father announcing that on his 35th birthday he would be wed and carry on the Pavus line; giving up his horseriding and taking the family seat in the Magisterium.

Now he stood in his last year of freedom, he took a steadying breath. For the last six years, since his homecoming, he had led the Tevinter Imperium into victory. Polo being the only sport involving horses his father found acceptable of his heir. "Perhaps it will Livia." He said stiffly as he slipped the saddle onto Leto. He noticed that the horse's belly was distended and placed a hand before his nose feeling no breath. He smirked; Leto was no happier having to carry his betrothed when they both wanted to be free to race the grounds. He secured the saddle with a bit of magic and lead him out of the stable. His father and Lord Herathinos both sat astride the more slender horses that were native of Tevinter. Dorian lifted Livia up onto his mount and he slid onto the last waiting horse. A slave handed him the reigns to both his horse and Leto and the leisure ride began with a click of his father's tongue, the two patriarchs leading the way down to the fountain gardens.

"Now then Halward, we were discussing the marriage contract last we spoke were we not?" Lord Herathinos said, running a handkerchief over his balding head and replacing his tophat. 

"Yes, our houses will be joined the day after Dorian's 35th birthday." Halward hummed, one hand resting on his thigh as he guided the horse. The soft sound of the fountains hummed around them as they began to walk the horses around the grand fountains. The pool of the fountain stretched a good 65 feet, with black marble and Volcanic Aurum statues dotting the center line of the pool. Each statue was different, a display of power and wealth as exotic fish danced in the crystal clear water. Dark green hedges lined the cobblestone; it was a relaxing place but Dorian felt an itch in the back of his mind, longing to get this over with so he could go for a ride. 

"Where will this wedding be held?" Livia called up to their fathers.

"We were thinking here on the grounds were we not Dorian?" Halward turned his head, throwing an expectant look to his son as they turned around the first bend of the fountain.

"I suppose so Father, though I have no head for planning weddings." He said dryly, though in truth he had always dreamed of his own wedding but to a man that he loved. "Of course the 'lucky' bride should also have a say." His voice dripped with sarcasm which was ignored by all parties. 

Livia pulled a fan out of her skirts and tapped it to her palm, not hanging onto the saddle now. "Why did we have to discuss this atop these beasts. A simple walk would have been lovely now my skirts will smell of horse." She scoffed and snapped her fan open with an overly exaggerated move.

Leto reared up letting out a terrifying sound as Dorian let go of the magic holding the saddle in place, causing it to tilt. He watched with no small amount of glee as Livia screamed and was thrown into the fountain, but the joy was short lived as Halward turned sharp eyes to his son and Lord Herathinos sqwaked with anger. "Livia!"

She snarled as she sat up in the fountain, her hair flattened as the caked on makeup on her face started to run. "I want that horse killed! it did that on purpose."

Dorian scoffed, "you startled him. He is not used to you riding him and you really did not have to snap that fan open like that. It sounded like a dragon snapping its wing." His voice barely contained his mirth as he swung off of the horse he had been riding and moved to Leto. He ran a soothing hand over the horse's neck making a show of 'calming' him. 

Livia glared as she was helped out of the water by two slaves and her father waddled his way over to her. "Father!"

Lord Herathinos glared at Halward, "You must control your son if you wish this wedding to happen Pavus." Livia snarled as she looked at Dorian.

"That horse will be fodder the moment we are married, no ill-mannered beast will be anywhere near me." She hissed as she stormed off, her father waddling after her. 

Dorian tried to hide his smirk as he brushed his hand over Leto's neck. "Ignore her Leto." He whispered.

"You disappoint me, Dorian," Halward said.

"Oh is it Tuesday?" His father scoffed and Dorian heard the sound of slaves scrambling after their master as Halward walked away. Dorian handed the saddle and bit to a passing slave. Once they were alone by the fountain Leto slowly lowered himself for Dorian to get on. With a small smile, he threw his leg over the back of his steed and clicked his tongue to get him to rise. "Let's be free." His fingers curled into the thick hair of his mane and he turned the horse around, digging his heels into his flank and they took off.

Dorian did not return to the stables until twilight began to fall. His ride was filled with memories and dreams; a time when he thought he could truly be happy. Visions of silver hair and golden eyes that crinkled with mirth. Dorian rubbed his eyes, refusing to cry once more. He ducked as they entered the stable, "let's get you brushed down." He hummed softly.

A low whistle sounded making the mage whip around. "That's a damned beauty of a horse." Dorian tried to suppress the shiver that raced up his spine and the spark of heat deep in his belly at the deep rumbling voice. His eyes landed on a behemoth of a man...no....not man. He was easily seven feet tall with deep grey skin that was littered with scars; he wore possibly the ugliest set of pants Dorian had ever seen cinched with a wide belt at his belly. Dorian looked down further to see that one of the males feet was encased in some sort of mechanical/magical apparatus that seemed to be his leg. His eyes lifted slowly taking in vast amounts of skin and muscle and he longed to reach out and touch. He saw thin, scared lips curled into an easy smirk, a dusting of dark stubble on the jaw, and a single glittering eye. The other was hidden by a simple leather patch dotted with silverite. What really captured him was the wide set horns, marking the other male as a Qunari.

"Who..."

"Names the Iron Bull. I'm your new stablemaster." That deep voice rumbled as he reached out a large grey hand to run over Leto's neck. "C'mon, I'll help you give him a rub down." The Iron Bull gave him a small smirk, his words filled with an innuendo that made Dorian flush in a way he had not in a very long time.

_Kaffas._ Dorian moaned to himself as he dug his heels into Leto's flank urging the horse to follow after the Qunari.  _What has the Maker dropped into my lap?_


	2. Chapter 2

The Iron Bull rolled his shoulders as he followed after the tiny slave leading him and his small team to the Pavus stables. He kept the look on his face open and friendly; trying to make himself as unthreatening as possible. Which for a Qunari was hard as it is but a Qunari with a mech leg and one eye and built like a brick shithouse it was damned near impossible. The slave squeaked at him to stay put as h scurried off to find his master, he turned his good eye to the four people he had with him. Two humans and two elves; the blonde human was giving him a long-dead stare with his arms folded over his chest. "What's with the face Grim?"

He grunted hooking his thumbs into his suspenders.

"Course this is a bad idea," Bull chuckled.

"We don't get paid enough for this chief." The darker skinned man pulling off his cap and rubbing the top of his head. "This is possibly the most dangerous job we've ever taken, and all of us aren't even here."

"More dangerous than hunting wyverns?" He challenged with a chuckle, "or that dragon in the Hissing Wastes? C'mon Stitches it's going to be fun and we aren't running for our lives." He slapped the man on the back as the two elves sat on a couple of crates by the barn doors.

"Yet." The long-haired blonde elf muttered as her companion rocked on the crate kicking her feet forward.

"Magister coming." The short-haired blonde elf hissed, making Bull straighten up and put himself between the two elves and the man approaching. He knew that his team wasn't dressed up, needing to look the part of the lower class but the surprise that colored Magister Pavus's face was priceless before his face drew into a harsh scowl.

"You are the stablemaster that came so highly recommended?" His hands folded themselves over his cane as his lips pursed harshly.

"Yes Sir, Magister Pavus." Bull rumbled bowing deeply, "The Iron Bull, my crew Grim, Stitches, Cookie, and Hummingbird." He indicated each person as he spoke.

Halward's lips curled in disdain, "such names do not inspire confidence. Though Magister Lucius could not praise your talents high enough for a Qunari." He pulled his pocket watch out and clicked it open, the Pavus family crest glinted with sapphires and emeralds. "I have more pressing matters to tend to. Your quarters are on the upper level of the barn, you are to keep the horses well groomed and assist with anything that is needed before we leave at the end of the week for Antiva City. Any questions can be directed to my houseslave Markus." He snapped the watch shut and turned on his heel, walking off with the slave that had gone to find him scrambling after him.

"Gee...swell guy." Cookie muttered, "hate the nickname Bull."

"Had to think on the fly. You and Elarinya stick close to us, this whole thing will go tits up if Dorian sees you."

"Iffin he remembers," Sera sighed, "mage-tits was always weird but 'im and Adaar were gooey an' gross. Doncha remember Ela?"

Elarinya sighed and scrubbed a hand over her face, "eight years. I'll be shocked if he remembers us." A panicked look crossed her face and her hands clasped her hands to her chest, "what if we're wrong? He may not even want to be 'rescued'."

"Wot?" Sera asked taking her shoulders, "ya think he's happy here? Doncha 'member what he told us?"

"I do but-"

"An' what Mae said?" Sera continued, "the man slept with Adaar...I mean...woof."

Bull snorted, "start moving shit into the barn. Get us set up, I'm going to take a look around." He waited for them to nod before he began to stalk around the perimeter of the barn, his eye taking in everything. The grounds were ridiculously huge and he could easily put a small sustainable village on the grounds alone. He shook his head as he pulled out a carefully folded parchment from the top of his brace on his leg. The paper was filled with neatly written handwriting all in a code that the Qunari had already memorized so his brain filled in the gaps of his orders. It was instructions to get close to Dorian Pavus; to gain his trust and get him away from Halward. 

Krem was already in Antiva staying at the Montilyet estate in Antiva City where the Thedas games were to be held this year. Bull let his head fall back, horns scraping the barn a bit as they did as he let out a slow breath to sink into meditation. They were hired by Magister Maevaris Taliani, who had gotten word of the job to them through Varric Tethras, Viscount of Kirkwall, who happened to be friends with Cassandra Pentighast aka Divine Victoria, who (in turn) was friends with Josephine Montilyet-Trevelyan, wife of the man who hired the Chargers as long-term bodyguards for his budding new family. This whole job was a grapevine of crazy with everyone knowing everyone, but Bull also had a personal stake in this mission. He had known Kaaras Adaar. They'd had a fling while Adaar's troupe had been in the Emerald Graves, performing for the same nobleman who had hired the Chargers as extra security for some four-day long party. They'd kept in touch afterward, Karaas asking about the Chargers while Bull asked about the circus. Then one day a letter came; filled to the brim with gushing words of flowery love. He wasn't jealous, oh no, he had been happy for the Tal-Vashoth. That news came on the back of Bull turning his back on the Qun, choosing the men and women under his care rather than a life of being led on a short rope and under a heavy yoke. 

Bull had known something was up when suddenly Kaaras's letters had stopped coming. The man had been an absolute stickler for keeping in touch, sending photos from the various places the troupe performed or of his  _kadan_. The Chargers had then hit Navarra and were shocked to hear that Karaas had been murdered and by his lover no less. The whole thing had sat wrong with the Qunari. Then they'd found Sera and Elarinya begging in the streets; the Inquisition had been disbanded with no clear leader after he had died. The two elves were the only ones to believe there was something more to the death. Iron Bull had taken the two with him out of the city, put them in his group and they traveled around with him and the Chargers. It had been Elarinya who had convinced him to take the job from Maevaris and she had somehow talked him into taking her and Sera with him to Tevinter, a place that hated the two things the girls stood for. Being elves and being lovers and open about said love. He sighed as he tucked the letter away and stretched as he heard the sound of hooves on cobblestone. He slipped around the corner and into the barn without being noticed.

"Let's get you brushed down." A lyrical voice said and the smooth upper-crust Tevene accent made a shiver crawl up the Qunari's spine. Adaar had always said his  _kadan_ had a beautiful voice )which Bull had often rolled his eyes at each letter when that got dropped in) but hearing it now he knew Adaar had not just been waxing poetic. The Iron Bull caught himself wondering how that voice sounded when he was fucked out.

He whistled as he caught sight of the horse. It was  **massive** , probably big enough to carry him. "That's a damned beauty of a horse." He took delight in how Dorian had shivered at the low pitch of his voice and slowly turned around. The photos that Bull still had (for archival purposes) were all clippings that Adaar had sent him both showing off how well his new act had been doing as well as how the troupe was doing. And nearly a decade later he was still fucking gorgeous; a bit more filled out (which was nice) and Bull could see fine lines starting around his eyes though the frown lines were more prominent than the laugh ones (which was a damned shame).

"Who-"

"Names the Iron Bull. I'm your new stablemaster." Unable to help himself he reached out to run his hand along the horse's neck. "C'mon I'll help you give him a rub down." He watched as Dorian's pupils dilated and a blush crossed his high cheekbones. Bull's ears had caught the low moan the mage thought he had hidden and it took all of Bull's training not to smirk. The game had started; a condition for him taking this job was to see if Dorian was even worth smuggling out while in Antiva.  _Always watch out for the pretty ones_  was one of his mottos. From his stance, the 'Vint seemed to have killed his friend in cold blood and he wanted to see why nearly everyone he spoke to seemed smitten with the guy. "Which stall Sir?"

Dorian snapped himself back to reality and pointed. He felt Leto moving beneath him, the giant of the horse seeming content with following after the man. Normally his mount would snuff and grumble at anyone except Dorian trying to lead him. Watching the horse with the Qunari made something flutter in his stomach and he chewed on his lip.  _An animal can see one's true self_ , Kaaras always said.  _Always trust an animal when they like someone._ The voice was so strong and clear in his head it made his heart ache, as it always did when he heard that damned but cherished cheery voice. It always ached before the guilt set in, it was his fault that that bit of light in the world had been snuffed out. Before he could get too deep into his thoughts he was jolted back into the real world when large, warm hands wrapped around his waist and easily lifted him off Leto. He let out a sound that was caught between a moan of desire at those strong hands on him and a shout of surprise at being lifted so easily. His hands fell to solid muscle and rough linen, warm laughter filling his ears as he looked down at the Iron Bull's face.

"You space off often?"

"I was not."

"Sure," Bull chuckled and it slid like warm brandy into his stomach. "You also ride bareback often?" He asked as he set Dorian on the ground, the man was tall for a human. Coming up to Bull's chin, which was a comfortable height.

"I prefer the feeling of solid muscles moving under me. Better control for the ride." The words were out without a second thought and he caught the lecherous grin on Bull's face.

"Dirty."

"Vishante kaffas! Just get him brushed down." Dorian normally loved brushing Leto down after a ride but the leering smile was too much. It stirred up a desire he hadn't properly felt since his last night with Kaaras. He wanted to feel large hands on him and hard muscles under his own hands. That feeling made him feel torn between wanting to fling himself head first into the first real desire he had felt in years and fleeing for his life, scared of what could happen. He spun on his heel and stormed out not stopping until he was in his rooms. 

Iron Bull watched him go before he picked up the brush from the bag that was in the stall. "So that's Adaar's  _kadan_." He mumbled, the horse huffing as if agreeing with him.

"He looks so different." Elarinya said as she moved into the stall, "by the gods I wanted to hug him."

"He can't see you yet." Bull said firmly, "give me a day to get a full read on him."

She sighed, "he may have blood on his hands but I know Halward had something to do with it. He was there the night Kaaras died."

"Except he was the one with blood on him, not Halward."

Her ears drooped a bit at the tip and she raked her hands roughly through her honey golden hair. "Use your damned Ben-Hasrath training." She hissed at him.

Bull knew she didn't mean the aggression that colored her voice. " _Kost,_ " he rumbled placing a hand on her head. "Give me a day Ela, if you're right then we need to get word to the rest. If you're wrong we leave. Simple. I won't break out a murderer who killed a friend, but I will free someone who's unhappy if I can."

She sighed and nodded, "I'll leave you to your work." She slipped away leaving Bull alone with his thoughts and with the horse who looked at him expectantly.

"Yeah, yeah, let's get you settled handsome." He laughed softly as he patted the horse on the flank and began to go over the interaction with Dorian in his head.

**Author's Note:**

> A good start non? Maybe? 
> 
> Well, At any rate, I hope you enjoyed my darlings. The chapters are going to be a bit long just to ensure that the story can be told. This first chapter covered a lot of ground that will be a main bit of play through the rest of the story. 
> 
> Lots of elements here.
> 
> Halward is a major dick, this we all know, but he plays a major role. Adaar will as well in future chapters. 
> 
> As always, thank you for joining me on this and I hope you all will stick around, if you have any questions, any requests stalk me on my tumblr. https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dark-huntress-moony.
> 
> Until next time my darlings!


End file.
